Giant country

Chapter 1

WARNING! This story contains a stereotypical protective Viking-sounding giant and other stereotypical things that go with a stereotypical protective Viking-sounding giant. Such as vore, tinies, danger, vore, and Tacos. In this offends you, then TOUGH TATER TOTS. If this pleases you, then by all means, continue!

Up and up it goes

To the tallest clouds

And the...............................................................

Darn.

I sigh and set down my pencil, resting my head in my hands. All around me was the sound of pencils scratching on paper and the soft chatter of the other classmates as they worked. Our english teacher, Mrs Karp, had given us three days to write a poem about anything that we wanted.

Actually, her precise, english accented words were,"Choose anything that catches your fancy, and compose a ballad that portrays what you detect about its natural and physiological attributes."

I don't exactly understand what she said either, but it was day two, and I still didn't know what to 'Compose a ballad' about. Frustrated, I wadded up the insulting paper on my desk and tossed it into the trash can next to the door. Three points to me! I slump back into my desk chair and let my head fall onto the desk.

OUCH! Bad idea.

I sit up and rub my forehead, looking at the clock. It's 3:20, and school lets out at 3:30. Uggggggg. I hate this. It feels like my head is going to implode, or by brain is overheating. 'If I die from this,' I mused, 'I wonder what they would put on my gravestone? Talia Rocketfeller, 2001-2017, Death by boredom.' I sat there, staring at the clock and daydreaming about what my friends and family would do if I died. Mom would be devastated of course, and dad would be the tough guy, not crying about me until he was alone. Molly, my BFF, would probably ask to put on my makeup for the funeral, and my little sister would be ecstatic because she would probably get most of my stuff. Huh, maybe I need a will, and give everything I own to some charity for poor african children.

Suddenly a loud and annoying alarm startled me out of my plans for the african children so much that I fell out of my chair and landed on my but with an 'oof'. Luckily, no one noticed my spill and I played it off by pretending to get a pencil from under the desk. The class began to file out the door, and I scrambled to get my stuff in my bookbag. I slung it over my shoulder and quickly made my way to the door, I was almost out when...

"Talia, may I speak with you for a moment?" Mrs Karp called in her perfected english accent.

Great. What was it this time? I really hoped it wasn't a lecture, because her lectures are always very long, very boring, and they had the tendency to make me late to the bus. It was friday too, so I really wanted to get home and forget everything I learned this week. Plastering a smile onto my face, I turned around.

"Sure Mrs Karp, what do you need?"

"Well, I was hoping I could get your judgment on a paper I had one of my third period students write. Quite frankly, I can't understand one word of it, and that is perhaps my fault. I had instructed her to write something modern, and she decided to write the whole paper in 'Text Talk', her words, not mine. Would you be so kind as to decipher this for me?"

I want the lecture.

Sighing, I took the paper from her outstretched hand and went back to a desk. Great, just great, now I have to copy down a two page essay. I will most definitely miss the bus, and I'll have to walk home. I'm soooo happy! Wohooo! Walking! Physical exertion! Lateness!